Diplomatic Trades
by redvelvetcupcakes
Summary: A Mossad screw-up leads to Ari Haswari and Ziva David being sent to the U.S as a sign of good faith for the American Intelligence agencies. Unfortunately nobody asked NCIS for their opinion on the matter, leading to confrontations and trouble on all sides
1. Chapter 1

A/N- Yeah I should really be working on my homework or the other story but this just came to me and I couldn't resist. Please read and review.  
>Disclaimer, I own nothing<p>

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><p>Ari Haswari was sitting at the window seat in his room at the Krasnapolsky Hotel observing the night life on the street below. He was dressed in the complimentary bathrobe and a pair of boxers, the sheets on the bed were rumpled and the scent of the woman- a girl really- still lingered in his nostrils.<p>

In hindsight he should have made the effort to reach the Red Light District and find himself a prostitute, money for sex, a nice clean transaction where nobody got hurt. Instead, he'd stepped into the bar twenty feet from his hotel for a scotch and met a fellow traveller.

A tourist in truth. A clear novice in one of those tour groups for under twenty-eights that saw seven countries in six days and got blind drunk in every last one of them. She was in a group of about five girls and kept throwing glances at him for ten minutes before working up the courage to come over and talk to him.

She was Australian, he could tell that in her accent. She was exhausted by the trip and high off the excitement, she was a novice in the art of seduction, determined to prove something to herself and the people she was with more than anything.

But he was bored and she was willing. She even put on a brave face when he kicked her out of the room still buttoning up her new woollen coat with the Italian label and counterfeit handbag.

If he'd had to guess her age he'd say twenty, maybe twenty one, not a virgin but definitely not experienced.

He _should_ have shot her down and sent her on her pretty little way or maybe let her shower first instead of going back to her hotel and her peers with his sweat still on her body and his juices slipping down her thighs.

Still it could have been worse, he'd noticed one of the bar's patrons salting a round of drinks with a clear liquid, perhaps he had saved her life tonight- or at least stopped her from waking up in an alleyway violated, bruised and fearful of travelling alone ever again.

Deciding it didn't really matter one way or another, he reached over to the table where he'd let some absinthe stew for a while.

That was where his control officer found him.

She didn't bother knocking; he wouldn't have bothered getting up. Instead she slid the master key into the door and let herself in, her eyes running a cursory inspection over the room.

"I ran into a sobbing girl on the way up here" she noted, meandering across the room, raising a perfect eyebrow at him, "One of yours?"

He doesn't bother looking up at her but shrugs carelessly, "Most likely...shalom Ziva"

She tilts her head, "Shalom Ari" she looks to the bed and sniffs with disdain, "I will call the help"

He snorts, swallowing some more of his drink "Don't bother"

"I am planning to stay here tonight" she announces simply, as a porter nudges the door open and looks to her for guidance, she nods in affirmation and he drops her bag in the middle of the room, leaving quickly when they stare at him with identical expressions of annoyance.

He eyes the worn duffel bag with the faintest disgust, "Pussy cat, pussy cat where have you been?"

She pushes his legs out of the way and sinks down opposite him on the window seat, "Bahrain" she announces, and he raises his eyebrows, taking in her cargo pants and vest, her hair tied back with a lavender scarf to keep it out of the way, "Did your plane miss the turn off to Tel Aviv?"

She doesn't immediately answer, choosing instead to reach over and help herself to his spirit, her nose wrinkling in disgust, he knows she prefers the sweeter drinks and had assumed his had been mixed with sugar. She swallows the liquor with a forced gulp, her head tilted back to show the delicate bones and cartilage of her thin neck and he feels an overwhelming desire for protection welling up within him.

Ziva is twenty-four years old and already one of the most decorated and accomplished Mossad operatives.

She is a disappointment to their father; she has not risen fast enough and been successful enough to satisfy him. Her face is too youthful and her figure too pleasing to always be taken seriously.

She is twelve years younger than Ari and he remembers holding her in his arms when she was three days old. Her purple eyelids quivering and her tiny hands shaking as they curled around his shirt, she made little mewling noises as he cupped her head in his palm as he'd been instructed. She'd struggled against it and turned it sideways, pressing her ear to his chest and sighing with contentment when she felt his heartbeat against her cheek.

Putting the drink down on the floor, he reaches over and gathers her into his arms, she protests and struggles but quickly surrenders as he slips her onto his lap and wraps one arm about her back and cups her hair in his hand, she sighs with annoyance but allows him to rest his chin on head and leans against his chest, the bathrobe being slid across so she can hear his heart.

They stayed like that for the better part of an hour, taking comfort and strength in one another, neither talking, neither moving, the only movement in the room being that of their breathing.

Eventually Ziva breaks the peace by burrowing her head deeper against him and exhaling through her nose with a sense of resignation,

"The Director is in negotiations with America" she murmurs, her dark brown eyes flickering up to see his reaction. He does not particularly care one way or another, he has long since been of the opinion that the Director of Mossad can go to hell, but clearly this news is important to Ziva so he feigns an interest,

"Oh..." he moves his face so he can look at hers and rubs his hand up and down her back,

"About what?"

Ziva sighs and shuffles marginally closer to him, tapping her fingers against his bare chest,

"There have been some...mistakes, made by Mossad in regards to operations carried on outside of Israeli territory"

He smirks, in other words Mossad has been caught acting illegally again. At least it's not him this time, he idly wonders whether it was another passport forging or if they'd killed another lookalike.

"America is furious with us" she explains further, using the pronoun to personalise the agency, to associate it with a living being and thus give it a life of its own  
>"There is talk of the President applying to the U.N for sanctions on Israel"<p>

For her sake he grimaces but honestly he doesn't care, worst-case scenario- a few countries kick up a fuss and some Mossad and Israeli ambassadors get deported. They'd be forgiven a few months later when a terrorist blew up a building or two and continue acting on foreign soil as they had always done.

"The Director is working with the U.S intelligence agencies in the hope of minimizing the damage" she pauses and the hand he using to massage her back stills, instinctively he knows that whatever she is about to say is important in some way.

"He has suggested that we be sent to America as a show of good faith" she whispers, and this time his emotion is not feigned,

"Us?" he asks in surprise, "You and I?"

She nods, "I got the call before I left Bahrain, he suggested that I meet you in Amsterdam so as to limit the delay if we receive our orders"

Ari wonders if the 'he' in Ziva's sentence is the director or the deputy director, and decides that it doesn't matter either way. Neither of those men would think twice about sending them to their deaths.

"How do the American agencies feel about our impending arrival?" he muses aloud and Ziva shrugs,

"The CIA has already volunteered to create a position for you and the FBI is suggesting a placement for me"

He finds it interesting that neither of them were consulted before this went ahead. They were simply traded like the Jewish bankers of medieval Europe, given from one ruler to another as a sign of friendship and good faith.

"It will not be so bad" Ziva announces bravely, sitting up and clapping her hands on the window seat as she pushed herself up and crossed to the bed, "I am friends with Special Agent Jennifer Sheppard"

He grins and picks up his drink again, "And I am enemies with Special Agent Jethro Gibbs"

She winces and raises her hand, pressing her fingers to the scar on his shoulder, the bullet had entered an inch away from his ball and socket joint, a shot he would never have missed.

"Jenny was once his lover" she reveals, picking up the phone and hitting the button for the front desk, "I will make sure she keeps him away from you"

He shrugs, truthfully he would welcome a battle with Gibbs; he feels alive the most when he is risking death.

He leaves his drink in her hand and goes to shower, his mind already busy with thoughts of the future.

NCIS Special Agent Caitlin Todd.

Now there was a woman he'd enjoy sexual relations with.

Such a strong, assured woman but he could easily imagine undressing her in a dark bedroom, she would be vulnerable in her nakedness, she would tremble when he touched her. He'd lay her down on the bed and claim her with kisses; her innocent eyes were the colour of jasper and so expressive in their emotions, he would see them filled with desire and that would be her undoing. Women like her, bound as they were to a societal norm, repressed in their own way by a religion that had come so far and yet still frowned upon earthly joys, were always so fragile in lovemaking, so surprised by the bodies capabilities for pleasure. She would be startled by the way she responded to his hands and frightened by the eagerness with which she would respond. He would be gentle with her, it had been a long time since he had cared about a woman's gratification but he could afford to take his time and stretch out every minute with her. He would bring her to ecstasy multiple times and make her beg before he sought his own release inside her. Of course, he would have to be gentle during and afterwards as well, she wouldn't be just another woman for him to kick out once he was done, she was too fascinating a creature for him to be satisfied with that, he intended to have her as many times as their bodies would allow. He'd have to make love to her at night so as to ensure they would have time. He'd have to let her rest between the acts as well, lack of recovery could lead a woman to harm, his medical expertise and personal experience had taught him that, but he would enjoy waking her with warm caresses or perhaps lovemaking itself, hearing her cry out with desire and reach out for him. One night would be enough for his plan, she would be enslaved by her own passion and seek him out again, she would request him the next time and eventually be unable to hide her desire, betraying Gibbs and making Haswari the victor in the game.

When he climbed into bed for the second time that night, reaching over to rest a hand against his sleeping sister he found that he was smiling.

Yes, he would enjoy America.

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><p>AN- In medieval Europe, loaning money was disapproved of by the Catholic church, however before the Medici, Jewish bankers were allowed to lend funds to kings and rulers, hence the reason they were handed around like gift cards. Terrible but true.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- Sorry for the long long long gap between updates, I lost my muse for this story, its back now

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><p>Tobias Fornell had drawn the short straw.<p>

He hated drawing the short straw.

Out of all the representatives in the federal agency alphabet soup he always seemed to be the one to luck out.

He always seemed to be the one who had to piss off Agent Gibbs.

The chime of the elevator sounded like a death knell to the FBI team leader as he treaded through the opening doors and past the tacky orange walls until he reached the bullpen.

However, the heavens must have granted him a temporary reprieve, because there was no Gibbs in sight and he wasn't returning anytime soon if the behaviour of his team was anything to go by.

"One, two, three, four, I declare a gummy war!" Senior Field Agent Anthony 'Tony' DiNozzo hollered as he released a missile of gummy bears upon Agent Todd who squealed and ducked laughing behind her desk, avoiding most of the attack. Agent McGee wasn't so lucky; the poor kid was apparently trying to ignore the play of his co-workers and thus seemed to bear a much harder assault than Todd had.

When a purple, sugar coated gummy hit him in the eye he yelped and jumped out of his chair,

"Ow Tony!" he cried in outrage, "That could blind me you know!"

DiNozzo merely laughed through his mouthful of lollies, "Serves you right for ignoring me, McGee" he decided before swivelling in his chair and spotting the less than impressed Tobias,

"Agent Fornell" he raised his eyebrows in surprise, his voice becoming sarcastic and mocking,

"To what do we owe the displeasure?"

Tobias ignored him; he'd have enough on his plate today without dealing with the overgrown man-child. He stalked through the bullpen towards the empty desk,

"Where's Gibbs?" he demanded of Agent Todd and she blinked, her pretty face showing concern,

"Coffee run, what's happened?"

He sighed and sat down in the chair, placing the plastic bag he'd been carrying onto the desk and letting the handles drop so that the contents was revealed.

Naturally DiNozzo bounded over, "Wow, expensive bourbon" he exclaimed, picking it up and turning it over to read the label,

"What, did you marry another one of his ex-wives?"

Fornell didn't see the humour, "You know DiNutso, I can't wait for the day Agent Gibbs snaps and kills you"

"Aw, I got no intention of doing that Tobias" Gibbs announced as he rounded the corner, coffee cup in hand coming to a fast stop before his chair,

"Then I'd have to train a probie"

He took the bottle of bourbon when DiNozzo offered it and put it back down on the desk,

"Who're you marrying this time?" he demanded, gesturing for him to get out of the chair. With a sigh Tobias stood and nudged past him, walking into the centre of the bullpen.

"Nobody but I have news" he took a deep breath, looked at their expectant faces and decided to plunge right in, rip off the bandaid quickly in the hopes it would hurt less,

"You all heard about the kill Mossad did using forged passports in a country they had no right to be in?"

The team nodded in unison but Fornell saw Gibbs eyes darken at the mention of Mossad- honestly he felt the same, the last time a Mossad operative had been running around Washington he'd lost good men.

"I heard the President wants the U.N to put sanctions on Israel" Kate mentioned, her connections to the Secret Service providing her with such information usually before it filtered to the rest of the federal agencies. Fornell nodded,

"He was pissed and wanted to make a point that he wouldn't support Israel dumping on international law"

"Uh..."

Everyone in the bullpen looked to McGee as the sound came from his mouth; he had his regular deer-in-the-headlights expression and seemed terrified by the attention. Gibbs made a circular motion with his hand and the young man swallowed,

"You said _was_" he pointed out and Tobias was pleasantly surprised by his quick insight,

"That's right, Mossad did a ring around with some of the federal agencies Homeland Security, DOD, CIA, FBI and suggested we do a deal- Israel doesn't cop any fallout for their screw up and promises to not get _caught_ killing with forged passports in the future..."

"Hope that wasn't the exact wording" DiNozzo smirked, clicking away on his computer. Gibbs only frowned, Fornell waiting for the apple to fall,

"What'd we get?" he demanded and Tobias took a moment to send a prayer heavenward.

"Haswari"

Gibbs frown grew deeper, "His head fresh on a silver platter?"

Fornell shook his head, "Nope, we get all of him, alive and well"

His chair flew back and hit the wall with a resounding smack, causing the rest of them to jump, throwing his coffee aside; Gibbs stormed past them and disappeared from view before climbing the stairs two at a time and marching into the Director's office. A few seconds later they heard the door slam.

Taking a deep breath, Tobias looked around at the stunned faces in the bullpen,

"Questions?" he asked sarcastically,

"Why him?"

He looked over at Kate who had gone pale, "Mossad reportedly has thousands of employees so why _that_ psychopath?"

Fornell perched on the edge of Gibbs desk, "CIA pretty much took over the trade, demanded Mossad send their two best field officers..." he caught McGee's attention and tossed him a USB stick, "And this is who we got"

The plasma came to life to show Ari Haswari's face next to basic details and his official record,

"Ari Haswari, we already know the essentials, two years IDF, med school in Scotland, employed in Gaza, started working for Mossad four years ago- since then he's been responsible for the arrest of twenty-three terrorists, foiled eight planned suicide bombings, enabled the Israeli army to block ten arms shipments to Hamas in Gaza, and is the only successful mole in Hamas and Al-Qaeda, to date, that has managed to penetrate as far as the fourth circle. We also got his control officer"

He took the remote from Agent DiNozzo and clicked it to show a photo of a woman that already had the men of Fornell's team panting like love-struck teenagers

"Kidon Officer Ziva David"

DiNozzo snorted and the three of them looked to him, "She's his control officer?" he demanded disbelievingly,

"Come on! She doesn't even look old enough to get into a bar; hell if she was in line for a club I'd card her up the whazoo!"

"Bet that's not all you'd do" Kate muttered earning herself a pointed glare,

"I'm just saying," he pointed out "She _looks_ young"

"Twenty-four" Fornell interrupted, "Did the traditional two years in the IDF, in the infantry, during which she won the marksmanship ribbon for her outfit six consecutive times, was awarded the Medal of Distinguished Service- one of only two women thus far to receive this honour- she went straight from the infantry into Mossad, was recruited into the Kidon and has liaised with several allied countries already, she became Haswari's control officer at his request three years ago, from what we're told she is the youngest control officer they have on staff"

"She's talented" McGee commented,

"She's driven" Kate announced, "Ambitious, probably not intimidated by men, likely intelligent" she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at the screen, "_Possibly_ has a personal relationship with Haswari if he requested her for his control officer"

"Maybe he chose her for her _talent_ Kate" Tony teased but she shook her head, "No he's a womaniser and she's beautiful, I'm not saying it's the sole reason they have a working relationship but they are being sent over in a pair"

"Hmmm double trouble" Tony commented, "Because we aren't busy enough with evil Mossad operatives running around the city..."

He would have continued but they were distracted by the sound of something shattering, followed by shouting. Fornell noted the awkward glance the team shared before feigning deafness,

"Can I get you something to drink Agent Fornell?" McGee offered politely as DiNozzo and Todd returned to their desks, he shook his head,

"Nah, I'm already late for meeting Officer David at the airport, I just wanted to warn you all first"

"Gee thanks" DiNozzo muttered bitterly, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the muted roar coming from the Director's office.

Tobias gave an emphatic nod before storming from the bullpen.

Although he'd never say it out loud, DiNozzo had been right; they had enough on their plates without inviting Mossad operatives to run around Washington.

Especially _these_ operatives.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- My god that lady on the last NCIS episode was irritating anyhow I own nothing and please review

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><p>When the plane begins its descent into America, Ziva David doesn't know how to feel. Beside her, Ari is leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed, feigning sleep, his hand rests lightly on her thigh and she covers it with her own, enjoying the soothing familiarity of the scars that crisscross his knuckles.<p>

Some were made by their enemies, some were made by her but she knows every pale mark on his dark flesh.

Just as she knows every pale mark on his dark mind.

Fourteen hours ago, they were dragged from a club in the Red Light District and thrown into the back of a car along with their luggage. They were driven to the airport and loaded onto an adapted C-130 Hercules, right next to the weaponry and the other things being transported to the U.S in the diplomatic trade off.

They had to move some cargo pellets to make enough room for themselves. There was one bottle of water and no food, Ziva was furious that they'd been treated with the same consideration as the inanimate objects that had bruised her legs when they'd hit turbulence. Ari had simply shrugged and lit up a joint, hoping to keep their buzz going a little while longer. Joining him, she had been lulled into relaxation, humming an Arabic nursery rhyme under her breath.

Awake and alert now, she takes her head off her brother's shoulder and spares a glare at the two pilots who'd ignored them throughout the flight, not offering them any conversation, food or water once their bottle ran out, though she could see they had plenty stashed between their seats.

Ziva hated being ignored, she'd had enough of that during her childhood to last her a lifetime.

As if sensing her thoughts, Ari's hand squeezes her thigh and he slowly opens his eyes,

"Are you unhappy my love?" he asks with a sleepy grin, she considers the question and scowls,

"I do not like this" she states and he nods, understanding her every thought in that one sentence.

She knows her brother. He is one half of her, and she is one half of him.

He knows that she does not like how she had been sent straight from Amsterdam to Washington, she had worked hard on her mission in Bahrain, she had hoped the success would warrant a debrief with their father, she had hoped that her brilliance in handling the situation would earn her the nod and compliment she strove for year after year.

Instead she had been treated like any worthless girl, a daughter who failed to be born a boy, sent away so that she could no longer irritate the important deputy director with her presence.

She should have been born a boy.

Not that it would have earned her father's love and respect. Ari was proof of that, he had served two years in the IDF, surviving the racism and hatred bestowed on him for being a Palestinian, he had graduated medical school in Edinburgh with honours and numerous awards and in his four years at Mossad he had achieved more in uncover missions and gone further in penetrating Hamas and Al-Qaeda than any officer before him.

And yet he was as undeserving of their father's affections as she was.

She wondered if anyone had objected to them being sent to this form of exile, if even one person had risen a hand and pointed out that they were the best and brightest Mossad had to offer and too important to be humiliated with this 'diplomatic' trade.

A nice thought, but an unlikely one.

The Hercules jolts as the plane's wheels touch the ground. Startled from her thoughts, Ziva begins putting herself together; gathering her things and checking to make sure she is presentable. Ari simply yawns and stretches, his joints cracking back into place.

He is long past the point of caring what people think of him and she hopes one day she will be too.

It is another ten minutes before the plane hatch lowers and she and Officer Haswari step out to be blinded by the sunlight. Looking up Ziva judges it to be early morning. Narrowing her bloodshot eyes against the bright glare she looks around to see if anyone is there to meet them.

All she sees are workers scurrying around the tarmac and for the most part they are ignored, clenching her teeth at this insulting neglect, she spots the large building just west of their position and begins striding towards it, Officer Haswari at her side and the pilots long since forgotten. He is busying himself with his shades and muttering about finding a decent cafe. She is more interested in finding out where they are supposed to sleep tonight.

Being the elder of the two and too hungry at that moment to be concerned with her wants, Ari steps into the airport and, with the knowledge of a well-travelled man, finds the nearest cafe. He orders a large breakfast for both of them, filled with sausages, bacon and other strange foods for the Western delight, the affects of the marijuana have worn off enough for Haswari to remember that they haven't had any water in a few hours and to grab a few bottles along with their tea. Ziva pokes his side irritably and orders coffee with the curiosity of a spoilt child and he lovingly indulges her before finding themselves a table to sit down. The cafe is tiny and near deserted with only three tables and a bench available, a man sits at the table next to them and stares at Ziva, Ari scowls protectively and presses a hand to her back as they move to the free seats, trying to convey the sense of ownership that usually makes the smarter men back off. His little sister is not some whore to be publicly lusted after like the window sluts in Amsterdam. Of course he knew in private she indulged her every hedonistic pleasure but that was a different matter. When they sit and their meals are brought out to them he briefly worries that it's a Jewish holiday where Ziva has to forgo certain foods, but when she starts with the bacon, consuming it in two bites and then taking his own his mind relaxes.

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><p>Two years ago, Ari and Ziva's sister Tali lost her life in a Hamas suicide bombing.<p>

It was the only time emotion for a being outside of them had reached their hearts and cast doubt upon their life path, suddenly unsure of themselves and suffocating on the smallness of their world, they had run away. Her brother had taken her hand and led her to India, to a city by the river where their days had been spent in a haze of drugs, booze and whatever pleasures they could find. For a while their father was too busy to notice they had disappeared and then he was too proud to come after them. Eventually Amit Hadar had sent a team of operatives to bring them back to Israel and thrown them into a Kibbutz out in the desert where even a cup of tea was considered a worrying stimulant, after three months he had assumed they were clean and brought them back to Mossad to resume their normal duties. Ziva knew the damage had been done however, their emotional scarring and exceptional volatility created an air of complete instability and danger, however they were still brilliant and quickly being considered amongst the best the agency had to offer.

So the Director decided that they were a worthy risk and let them continue on as officers, giving them an allowance none of the other agents had. Occasionally they showed contempt to Israel's other agencies, or their overseas missions started or ended several days later then scheduled, sometimes they took impromptu holidays to destinations known for drug use, every so often the body count on one of their tasks was higher than the number they had been assigned. As long as their work was done and was done well, nobody truly gave a damn.

Ziva wondered if the Americans would be so accommodating. She doubted they would, the respective agencies had told Mossad that she and Ari were not to leave Dulles airport without being escorted and then failed to arrive. Already she and her brother had been left wandering the terminal, bored and humiliated by the lack of respect shown to them. With nothing but euros, dinars and shekels in their pockets and the little more than the clothes on their backs, she had been in half a mind to find her and Ari passage to Mexico, let the Americans come find them sipping cocktails on a beach or taking down a drug lord just to sample some of his finest wares. Unfortunately her brother was interested in making it onto American soil, he already had a plan forming in his mind that he was not yet willing to share but Ziva knew it meant enduring this snub from the two agencies a little longer. Her brother had taught her the meaning of pride, she knew that another hour or so and he would be the one finding them passage out of the country.

After three hours Ziva pulls rank over her brother and makes the call,

"_Bashan_"

"Ambassador" she hisses the title through clenched teeth as Ari eyes airport security, two Middle Easterners loitering in the International section of Dulles hasn't gone unnoticed and they're about thirty seconds away from the start of a diplomatic incident.

"_Officer Davi- what have you done now?_"

Michael Bashan was an old family friend and unlike Amit Hadar had not slept with Ziva's mother and tried to play stepfather to the David children, as such he was far more willing to see her and Ari for the trouble they were, she rolled her eyes,

"We have not done anything; we are still waiting to be escorted from the airport"

"_I thought you were schedule to leave Amsterdam..."_

"The airport in Washington, we have been here for three hours now!"

"_Have you tried calling the FBI or CIA?" _

"Why so we can ask them to please stop embarrassing us?"

"_Perhaps they forgot the arrival time..._"

Ziva closed her eyes as she felt mortification stain her cheeks at Bashan's unlikely suggestion. The Americans had played almost every card in their hand before Mossad had approved their suggestion of bartering their two best agents, she and her brother had been put on the plane the moment the deal was finalised and neither of the two agencies had managed to send even a lowly intern in a taxi?

She opened her eyes as brother's hand stroked her back,

"We have trouble" he whispered in her ear, she followed his gaze to see two fat security guards approaching, both red faced from the effort of moving, she squared her shoulders,

"Bashan we're about to be interrogated by airport security, when we are done there _will_ be a car waiting for us out the front to take us wherever we wish to go, understood?"

"_Yes"_

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><p>AN- Confrontation next chapter


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